"Nelson Zhou doesn't seem like the kind of person who'd need charity," Danny commented sarcastically. "Could he have worked here at some point?"
"If that were the case, I would definitely remember," Nicholas Cheng replied, sitting down at his desk. He maintained his helpful demeanor as he pulled up the charity's records on his computer.
"Sorry, there's no record of a Nelson Zhou here. C-H-I-U, right?"
Neither detective had expected to get much useful information from him anyway. In situations like this, they relied more on their instincts and observation skills than the words of a polished spokesperson.
Jack caught Danny's eye and gave him a subtle signal. Stepping back nonchalantly, Jack began quietly surveying the surrounding hallway.
Danny understood the cue and started making small talk to keep Cheng distracted. "So, does this place have any connection to those street punks?"
Cheng either didn't catch the hint or chose to ignore it. "We sponsor a midnight basketball program to help at-risk youth get back on the right path," he replied smoothly, his pleasant demeanor unwavering.
"And how about the name Mintai? Does that ring any bells?" Danny pressed on.
"Hmm, sounds like a Korean girl's name. Let me check," Cheng answered, squinting slightly as if genuinely trying to recall.
"Do you know her last name?"
"No, I don't."
While Danny kept Cheng occupied, Jack slipped away unnoticed, making his way down the hallway and into a different section of the building. At the end of the corridor, he entered a room that appeared to be a gynecology clinic's waiting area.
The room was filled with Asian women, many of them visibly pregnant. A few men, presumably accompanying their partners, sat among them.
The walls were adorned with posters offering legal advice and immigration services, though some were thinly disguised advertisements for shady immigration agencies. Near the entrance, a table was piled with brochures promoting similar services.
Jack approached the reception desk, manned by a woman in her forties who exuded an old-fashioned vibe reminiscent of the 1980s.
"Hello," Jack greeted her with his trademark smile, but to his surprise, it backfired spectacularly. The woman froze in panic, then began shouting something unintelligible in a language Jack couldn't place.
"Uh, no need to panic. I just want to ask if a pregnant woman named Mintai has been treated here," Jack said, trying a series of different dialects. But the woman only grew more agitated, retreating in fear and frantically shaking her head.
Jack felt a rare pang of frustration. What the hell is going on here? he thought.
Before he could press further, hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway. Nicholas Cheng, who had maintained an air of calm professionalism earlier, now burst into the room, visibly flustered.
"Apologies, but you can't be here—at least not right now!" Cheng exclaimed, his tone betraying a hint of panic.
"Why not?" Danny asked, trailing in behind him. He shrugged helplessly at Jack, signaling that he hadn't been able to stop him.
"This area is reserved for patients who can't afford medical care," Cheng explained, still trying to appear composed.
Jack's unannounced presence had gone unnoticed by the waiting patients, but Cheng's reaction and the commotion at the front desk caused a stir. Several pregnant women instinctively cradled their bellies and moved toward the corners of the room.
"I just wanted to take a look. Is that a problem?" Jack feigned innocence.
Forcing a strained smile, Cheng lowered his voice, as if trying to reason with Jack. "Many of these patients are undocumented immigrants. Your presence here is scaring them."
"Please, I'm begging you—please leave. Please," Cheng implored, his voice almost desperate.
"Alright, alright. No need to get so worked up. I'll leave," Jack said, turning toward the exit. He slowed his pace as he passed the table near the wall, discreetly pocketing one of the brochures.
"What's that? So you can not only speak Chinese but also read those strange little boxy characters?"
Outside the charity building, Danny watched Jack examine the brochure with a mix of admiration and disbelief. For the first time, he seemed genuinely impressed, like a struggling student marveling at a star pupil.
"Yes, and not just these characters. I can also read Cyrillic and Latin scripts," Jack replied matter-of-factly. With prodigies like Spencer Reid and Christian Wolff already in the public eye, he saw no need to hide his own abilities.
"Alright, Mr. Multilingual Genius. So, what does it say?" Danny asked, resigning himself to the fact that even his little brother Jamie's Harvard law degree didn't hold a candle to Jack's skills.
"It's an advertisement for an adoption agency. The gist is, if you're a single pregnant woman who got pregnant by accident, or even if you're married but can't afford to raise a child—or can't even afford an abortion—you can give up the baby for adoption and receive... uh... compensation," Jack translated, his tone turning grim.
"Compensation? You mean money?" Danny frowned, his face darkening.
"Basically, yes. The wording is vague, and it's written in machine-translated Chinese, but the meaning is clear enough," Jack confirmed.
Danny rubbed his temples, trying to process this new piece of information. "So, we're missing just one last piece of the puzzle. According to yesterday's plan, we should visit Yi-Jun Liu and see what she knows. She works at a restaurant nearby, also on Mott Street."
"How about we grab a working lunch while we're at it?" Jack suggested, his stomach rumbling at the enticing aroma of food wafting through the street.
Jack's idea of a "simple working lunch" turned out to be a lavish feast: four dishes and a soup, including spicy boiled fish, candied pork knuckle, stir-fried Chinese broccoli, sizzling beef, and spinach in broth. Danny fumbled awkwardly with chopsticks, nearly burying his face in his rice bowl.
"You should eat too," Jack said, glancing at Yi-Jun Liu, who had been ushered into their private dining room. She stood nervously in the corner, wearing the restaurant's cheongsam-style uniform.
"I can't. The boss will get mad," Yi-Jun stammered, shaking her head furiously.
Jack sighed, pulling out his FBI badge and showing it to her. Switching to Chinese, he said, "Don't worry. I'll help you sort out everything—from your status to your job and even a new place to live. But you can't tell anyone about this. Consider it your informant's fee.
"This is a one-time offer. If you cooperate, you'll no longer have to stand on the street at night. You can live a normal life here. Understand?"
Yi-Jun stared at him in stunned silence, her mouth agape. Jack pushed a bowl of rice toward her and tapped the table. "Sit down and eat first."
As she ate, tears streamed down her face uncontrollably. Danny, clueless as ever, asked, "What's wrong with her?"
Jack shrugged, unsure how to explain. Helping people was a skill in itself, and it was often a gamble whether the person being helped was worth it. Judging by her tears, it seemed Yi-Jun understood the weight of his words.
After hurriedly finishing her rice, Yi-Jun dropped to her knees with a loud thud, attempting to kowtow. Jack caught her arm before her head could hit the ground.
"Enough of that. In your culture, you only kneel to heaven, your parents, and your teachers. If you think I've done you a favor, then live a good life and don't let me down," Jack said, switching back to English as he gently helped her up.
"Thank you, sir," Yi-Jun choked out between sobs. She couldn't understand why this foreign-looking man reminded her so much of her elementary school teacher back in her rural hometown. If only...
"Alright, sit down and talk. I'll ask questions, and you'll answer. Tell us everything you know," Jack said, his tone firm but not unkind.
"I've known Mintai Kim for two years," Yi-Jun began, speaking hesitantly. "She's from a rural area in Jeonju, South Korea. She's much prettier than me, so the clients really liked her. But about six months ago, she got pregnant.
"Without her income, things got very hard for her. I wanted to help, but we're undocumented and uninsured. The hospital said an abortion would cost at least $2,500.
"We didn't know where to turn, and we were too scared to borrow money from Nelson Zhou. We'd seen what happened to the women who owed him."
Yi-Jun wiped her tears with trembling hands, but they kept coming. "But when Nelson found out Mintai was pregnant, he approached her himself. He offered to take her to a clinic that provided free checkups for pregnant women."
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